Bouquet for the Mum
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: The Doctor visits Clara on Mothering Day.


The Doctor burst into her living room, the way he always did, but this time he wore a temporary smile that brightened his face as he shouted, "Happy Mothering day!" just before he looked across the small space to where Clara stood in her nightie with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream in her left hand and a spoon in right, holding tight to the object that sat within her mouth.

Clara's brow rose slightly, looking to the bouquet of wildly colored flowers the Doctor held and she watched his own face shift in confusion as he took the second step out of his Tardis, clearing his throat as she asked, "Happy Mothering day?"

He hesitated, eyes surveying the room around him before he stretched an arm out and offered, "Customary, for humans, I'm told. Celebrate mothers and womanhood, but mainly mothers."

Poking her spoon into the ice cream, Clara took the flowers and laughed hesitantly, "I'm not a mother."

There was a sly grin that softened his features and he teased, "You've certainly earned a bouquet for helping raise me."

Again, she laughed. This time loudly, nodding as she accepted the assertion and then moved back to her kitchen to set the ice cream down on the counter and lay the flowers next to them. "Oi, tall one," she called.

He swung around the kitchen door answering automatically, "I really should be going."

"I need that vase," she gestured up above her cabinets to a glass cylinder lying on its side, "And as much as you enjoy having a go at my height when I pull out the step stool..."

The Doctor moved into the space and he reached quickly to retrieve the item, handing it to her and turning hastily, but stopping at the door, feeling Clara staring curiously at him. "I know," he stated, hands clasping together as he twisted back to wince at the way her eyebrows tightened above the bridge of her nose as her bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. "I know, strange behavior, even for me."

She let the corners of her lips drift up anxiously as she nodded, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were running away from me."

He laughed, awkwardly, and his body bent towards her to admit, "Possibly." His fingers came up, an inch apart, "Just a tiny bit." Then he added, eyes widening, "But only because I'm late."

"Late for what?" Clara questioned just as his body had completed its turn back to the entranceway.

His head lead a pivot back to look at her, "Mothering day." He spoke the words truthfully and Clara nodded, then laughed and pointed and he waited, feeling his hands go cold.

"Got another mum out there on your list?" She eyed him as she smirked, "A real mum."

"A real mum," he laughed lightly, "Yes." He gestured, "Have to go now, Clara." Then he shrugged, "I'll see you when I see you."

He offered the flowers she reached for a sad smile and turned before she could see it, rushing back towards his Tardis before she could question it, and he slammed a lever to take him into the vortex, glancing up at the center console with a scowl and a muted, "You _would_ do this."

It glowed brighter in response.

The Tardis landed and he moved to the doors, staring at his empty hands with a sigh of resignation – he should have stopped off and gotten her something. Should have thought of it, he knew, but he took hold of the doors and opened one slowly, looking out at the familiar living space that was darkened and silent.

Moving out and closing the door behind him, the Doctor made his way through the house quietly, hoping he wouldn't disturb her if she were sleeping, angered that he might have missed the day. Her first Mothering day and he might have missed it, he thought, teeth grinding roughly. But then he saw the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the hallway and he warmed.

It was a relatively new feeling in this regeneration. A simple satisfaction at the mere knowledge of someone's existence... the way even his old bones could feel buoyant knowing he'd enter the room and she'd be there, happy to see him. His hands lost their grip on one another and he bowed his head as he turned in towards her, hearing her muffled chuckle and the softest of suckling sounds.

"You're late." Clara's voice was hoarse, tired from a long day, and she laughed to herself in a way that reddened his cheeks just before he looked up to meet her eyes.

Happy eyes tinged with an exhaustion he knew would never dull their sparkle.

"Sorry," he offered lightly, thumb darting over his shoulder, "Tardis, you know how she gets."

Clara merely laughed from where she sat in the bed, then looked down at the infant on her chest, brushing a gentle hand over the head of soft dark ginger strands, lifting into her father's unruly waves. "She's had a good day," Clara told him, nodding affirmatively.

He could see her eyes watering as she watched the baby girl's fingers scratch delicately at her breast, growing tired and full. "And have you?" The Doctor asked quietly. He laughed as he elaborated, "Have you had a good Mothering day, Clara?"

She smiled up at him and nodded her head to the space beside her on the bed, waiting for him to carefully make his way to the spot, shifting close enough for her to lean into him. Clara glowed, he thought to himself – a thought he'd had often, but moreso in the past year. She radiated not only beauty, but an overwhelming serenity that calmed even the darkest corners of his mind.

Without hesitation, he kissed the top of her head and he cradled the baby girl's and a laugh escaped him. A comfortable one that gained him the smallest of smiles from both ladies beside him. A laugh that opened the infant's dark eyes and unlatched her lips from her mother to gaze up at him happily.

"Hello, Celeste," he greeted her kindly and she gurgled a hello in response. A quiet, ' _Daddy_ ,' that hadn't yet found a way to form on her small plump lips.

Clara sighed and explained, "We took a trip to UNIT, got all checked out by Dr. Jones again before visiting with Kate and then we strolled through the park. A little boy gave me a yellow rose and told Celeste she was beautiful – she quite liked that."

"Well, she's inherited her mother's ego," the Doctor quipped silently.

Laughing, Clara looked to the girl now watching her, their dark eyes speaking to one another in a way the Doctor knew he'd never understand. "I brought you flowers," he admitted, waiting for her to look to him before he shrugged, "Accidentally gave them to the wrong you though."

"Ah," she stated simply, "Tardis."

He watched her cover herself, carefully resting Celeste against the pillow on her lap and he took a short breath, asking her curiously, "Did you have an inkling then, that it wasn't the right me."

Her fingers slipped into their daughter's grasp, slowly swaying the baby girl's arms while giving her a smile the girl cheerfully returned, her long hum explaining, ' _I like this game, mummy_ ,' and Clara responded lightly, "I had an inkling of _something_ that night. To be honest, when you showed up, I thought you'd known, run some scan or something – I thought that's what the flowers were for. I thought that's why you left in such a hurry."

"That was the night you found out you were going to be a mother," he offered, small smile tugging at his lips.

Clara leaned forward and nuzzled Celeste's nose, giggling with their daughter and when she shifted back, she glanced up at him to admit, "Ten minutes earlier, you'd have found me in the bathroom with a test in one hand and a phone in the other, working up the courage to call you."

"You went for ice cream instead," he knew.

"I really wanted ice cream," she sighed. Then she poked at the baby's stomach as she squealed for her mother and Clara corrected, " _You_ really wanted ice cream."

The Doctor laughed lightly and he lifted his left arm, lying his hand gently at her back to give it a loving rub before he told her sadly, "I'm sorry I delivered the flowers a bit early."

"It's alright," Clara replied softly, watching Celeste beam up at her with a gummy open-mouthed smile, "I've got her this year," she shifted, bringing her knees up as she shifted slightly into the Doctor, "And I've got you."

He kissed her head again, listening to her and Celeste chuckle contentedly together, and he whispered, "Happy Mothering Day, Clara."


End file.
